


Strangers in your mind

by iantosgal



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 12:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iantosgal/pseuds/iantosgal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on this prompt http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/16524.html?thread=36828044#t36828044 on avengerkink. </p>
<p>
  <em>I'd like to see Clint run into Coulson while he is taking over the helicarrier instead of Natasha.</em>
  <br/><em>Bonus if they are already husbands/lovers and Phil is crushed to see Clint look at him with his cold, blue, mind-controlled eyes.</em>
  <em>Cue lots of feels!! Feel the feels! :D</em>
  <em>Also, happy endings please.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strangers in your mind

**Author's Note:**

> I suck at titles...
> 
> Hope this is what the OP wanted :S

"It's Barton. He took out our systems. He's headed for the detention level. Does anyone copy?"

Phil Coulson listened to Fury's words over the comm line and felt his heart plummet and settle somewhere in his stomach. He should have seen this coming. Ever since Clint was taken he'd known that there was a chance they wouldn't be able to pull him back, that someone would have to take him out. 

He just hadn't wanted to believe that that someone might be him. 

"This is Agent Coulson. I copy," he said softly, and, after giving himself a little shake, took off in the direction of Loki's cell. 

"Coulson..."

"I got it," Phil said, in a tone that told Fury to drop it. 

The closer he got to the detention level the harder his heart began to thud in his chest. When he saw the familiar figure of his husband striding along the gangway, his breath caught in his throat. He followed him quietly, hardly making a sound, but Clint heard him anyway. 

Just as Phil got close enough to make a grab for Clint's shoulder, he spun around arrow nocked and drawn. Phil ducked and grabbed Clint's arm, pushing it down and to the side, feeling the arrow whizz past his ear. Clint swung his elbow into Phil's head, making him stumble. But still he managed to lash out, his fist connecting with Clint's face before he side stepped, slipped under the railings and landed in a crouch on the level below. 

Clint followed him down but Phil grabbed onto a post in the railings and swung around it, both his feet slamming into Clint's stomach making him double over and stagger back. But almost instantly he was up again, another arrow sent flying past Phil who only manged to dodge it by a fraction of a second as he grabbed the railings and swung himself up. 

Clint came at him full force, swinging his bow at Phil's head, at his chest, his legs. Phil dodged and weaved, trying not to look at the cold blue of his husbands eyes and the way they looked at him as if he were a stranger instead of the man he had spent the best part of ten years married to. He made a grab for the bow but his fingers only manged to wrap around the string. He pulled on it but Clint yanked the bow back towards him and he was no match for Clint's brute strength. All he could do was cling to the bowstring as Clint pulled him forward. 

Clint letting his arm slack so that the bow swung forward and hit Phil in the face took him by surprise but he held on tight, reaching out and gripping the front of Clint's vest. 

"Clint," he whispered, but there was no sudden look of recognition in Clint's eyes, he didn't suddenly stand down, didn't realise the person he was trying to kill was the man he was supposed to be spending the rest of his life with. 

So Phil did what he knew he had to and backhanded his partner across the face. Clint stumbled to the side, his hands loosening on the bow and Phil tugged it again, swiping it from Clint's hands and raising it up and over his head. But Clint had already recovered and was looking up at him from his crouched position, a mean, cold look in his eyes and a feral grin on his lips. He flicked his knife out of his boot and Phil swallowed. 

If Clint was in his right mind there's no way he would have pulled a knife on Phil. In normal circumstances, Clint would never even raise his hand to Phil unless they were sparring and even then, Phil was pretty sure Clint only hit him at half power. 

Even during the worst of his nightmares, Clint had never, _ever_ , lashed out at Phil. 

But now, he surged forward, swiping his knife through the air millimeters away from Phil's throat forcing Phil to swing his fist into Clint's face. He grabbed Clint's arm as the knife sliced through the air again, twisting it away from his face. Clint grimaced but then threw the knife above his head, his other hand snatching it from the air and thrusting it again towards Phil's face.

Phil ducked and staggered backwards, his back colliding with the railings. Clint was on him in seconds, his forearm pressed against Phil's chest and the knife glinting between them. Phil grabbed the hand holding the knife and tried to push it away. 

"Clint...baby..."Phil pleaded but again he got no reaction. 

Clint's other hand came up and grabbed the back of Phil's head and he winced at the brutality of it, missing the tenderness he normally associated with Clint's hands.

"Baby...please...stop," Phil pleaded, urging him with his eyes to see him but he knew it was useless. 

Clint forced his head forward, the knife just nicking his throat so that he felt a tiny bead of blood trickle down onto his shirt collar. In desperation, he twisted and sank his teeth into his husbands bare forearm, making him yell. He flipped Clint over his back and grabbed his neck, before throwing him to the side. 

With a loud clang, Clint's head connected with the railings. Phil watched as he slumped forwards with a groan. He shook his head and seemed disorientated, slipping down to the next railing and hitting his head again. He slumped forwards and then pushed himself up on shaky arms. 

Phil very carefully didn't move a muscle. Not even when Clint looked up at him with something that finally resembled recognition. 

"Phil?" Clint asked. 

Something in Phil just about breaks but he can't be too careful. Alien mind control isn't exactly something they have a lot of experience with. So he did what the SHIELD agent in him told him and ignored the worried husband part of him that wanted to pull Clint close. 

He delivered a perfect round-house kick to his husbands head and watched him fly backwards, finally unconscious. 

As soon as he was sure Clint was out for the count, Phil felt his legs buckle and he slid down until he was sat at Clint's feet. He let his head fall forward against his knees and took a deep breath, but he couldn't stop the two tears that slid down his cheeks. 

***

Clint was covered in sweat, his hands clenching and un-clenching beside him, muscled arms straining subconsciously against the restraints that held him. 

"Clint," Phil said softly, letting his hand rest gently on Clint's straining arm. "You're going to be OK."

"You know that?" Clint said with a worrying laugh. "Is that what you know?"

"It's OK."

"I gotta flush him out," Clint gasped, screwing his eyes shut and letting his head fall back with a soft thump. "I gotta get him out of my head."

"You have to level out. It's gonna take time."

"I...I don't understand...how am I here?"

"Loki used you to break him out..." Phil began but Clint cut him off with a sharp look. 

"I know what I did." 

"What Loki did."

"Phil..." 

Phil lent forward and pressed a kiss to Clint's forehead. 

"I attacked you," Clint said, his voice so broken it made something inside Phil shift and he quickly unbuckled the restraints, pulling Clint into his arms. 

"You didn't have control."

"I attacked you, Phil!"

"No you didn't."

"How many..."

"Don't. Don't do that to yourself, Clint."

They were silent for a while and Phil thought back to the way Clint had been when they fought. So hard and cold, not caring who was before him, who he was trying to kill. Not his Clint, not the Clint that was before him now. Clint never took killing someone lightly. He did it, hell they all did, but every person Clint killed deserved what was coming to them. He had a strong sense of loyalty and the fact that he had attacked any person on this damn Hellicarrier, told Phil that Clint didn't have single ounce on control over what he had done. Yet, Phil couldn't quite get rid of the coldness that had settled in his heart at the memory. 

He had thought about how he might die. In this life, you couldn't help but think about death. But in all his wild imaginings, dying by Clint's hand had never been one of the options he'd come up with. But this had been a close call and only a lucky blow to the head had saved him, because Clint had been single mindedly out for his blood and Phil would never have been able to kill Clint, never have been able to deliver the killing blow or shoot him...not even if Fury himself had stood there and ordered him too. 

He pushed Clint back slightly, brushing a thumb over his temple. Clint screwed up his eyes again and Phil kissed his eyelids gently. 

"I've got you," he whispered. "It's OK. I've got you."

"I'm sorry," Clint whimpered. 

"You have nothing to be sorry for."

"I should have fought harder. I should have seen you and..."

"And what? Fought off alien mind control just at the sound of my voice? I know love is strong, but it's not that strong, Agent."

Clint huffed a laugh and forced his eyes open. 

"So how did you get him out?"

"Cognitive recalibration."

Clint raised an eyebrow slightly and Phil smiled. 

"I hit you really hard on the head."

Clint's eyes crinkled slightly in an imitation of a smile. 

"Thanks."

"Anytime," Phil replied.

But really, Phil never wanted to have to fight his husband again. He never wanted to see his eyes so cold, never wanted to have to dodge away from his frenzied attack and he never wanted to have Clint look at him as if he was a total stranger. 

He grabbed Clint's shoulders and pulled him close, crushing their lips together. He felt Clint's arms wrap around his shoulders and moaned softly. Phil swiped a tongue across Clint's lip, begging entrance. Clint opened his lips easily and Phil deepened the kiss, threading his fingers through Clint's short hair. Clint let out a strangled sound and Phil realised he was crying. He pulled back from the kiss, resting his forehead against his husbands and reaching up to wipe the tears that trickled down his cheeks. 

"It's OK, baby. I promise, it's going to be OK."

Clint nodded but kept his eyes closed. Phil kissed him softly again and ran his hands down his bare arms. 

"It's not over yet. Loki escaped."

Clint opened his eyes and there was a determination in them that was so familiar that Phil felt a welcome warmth rush through him. This was the Clint he knew and loved. 

"We have to stop him. Us and whoever else is left."

"Well, if I put an arrow through Loki's eye socket, I'll sleep better I guess," Clint said with a sigh. 

"Now you sound like you," Phil smiled, pressing another kiss to Clint's lips.


End file.
